True Believer: A Lost Dream
by PhiLLy
Summary: A story based on the origin of a Dominator I use. A pretty dark story but I think it's a good read... please read and review.


Disclaimer: I own no parts of City of Heroes or Villains I just enjoy the game.

Author's note: If this story turns out at all how I plan it to this will be a very good story. Very dark, but good nonetheless. It is a one shot story based off of my Dominator on the Justice Server of City Of Villains. Anyways here goes...

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True Believer: A Lost Dream 

The thoughts, images they still haunt me. Fifteen years later I still cannot free my mind of the horrible things I have witnessed, things I have been party to. They were better times, times when I could actually find happiness, times when I didn't look in the mirror revolted by my own reflection. I have come to the conclusion that if I am to relieve myself of the horrid thoughts that I must remove them from my mind, and the only way I could comfortably do this is with a pen and paper.

As I think back onto everything that had happened I start at the beginning, my days working for Crey Industries attempting to find ways to improve upon the abilities of normal men. I began in bio-engineering and much enjoyed my job for I believed that although I was not scapable of being one myself, I gave heroes the strength to fight. The techno-organic suits I had been helping to develop had been acclaimed for it's advancements and abilities to enhance the stamina of those who wore them.

Although at the time I reveled in my accomplishments I now curse it, for it was this success which led me to that which now burdens me each and every night. Doctor Briskly was a brilliant man, _is_ a brilliant man well known throughout the field of genetics and I considered it an honor when he chose me as his assistant. So renowned was he that the Corporation paid for off site housing for his project and complete funding. He basically was his own boss. To be honest I only kid myself, he answered to no superior and would scoff at the thought of such. "Genious cannot be interfered with" was his motto. "If you have an idea, release it, explore it, no matter what the cost may be" he would say. But at what cost did he quench his own curiosity?

When I first arrived at the mansion I was welcomed with open arms from he and his wife, a wonderful woman in her own rights. The most peculiar pair they made and somewhere in the back of my mind when I met them, something felt out of place for she simply did not seem the type to settle for a busy scientist. She was ever the patient woman though and would sit attentively as the Doctor and I would discuss the detailed happenings of the latest genetic research. "Ah, but we will discover shall top it all, wait and see!" he would declare with his fist raised high. And each time I would believe him... I still would.

To be in his presence... was awe inspiring. The amount of thought he would place into the smallest detail was uncanny. In fact how closely the room they set aside for me resembled that of my own house vastly surprised me. Too dumbfounded to ask how he was able to so meticulously recreate every detail I simply admired the effort and knew that this man was truly something else.

The work we did was an attempt to mass produce life... to "create" a super hero! How genuinely absurd it all sounds now, but back then, and with him, I believed we could do anything. He had accurately mapped the DNA strand. I kid you not, the man had unraveled the functions of the most complex sequences of protein, except for those in mutants. I did not know it at the time but slowly, ever so slowly his failure had driven him to madness.

His wife swore that he would walk a trench into the hardwood with the constant pacing back and forth as he mumbled to himself while twisting his beard.

"The smallest percentage of human kind shall be that which unravels all my hard work!" That was his nightmare; having his progress hampered by a mere fluke of nature. It seemed as a cruel joke to him. Following his original map we would pick and piece together what we thought was the accurate structure, but we were both disheartened when we discovered that all we had done was slowly being flushed down the toilet.

With normal humans who had special gifts there was also some difficulty, but we came to learn that this change was usually in the mind, that they would push themselves beyond their natural limits and was impossible to replicate. But these mutants... it was astounding at how different the resulting strands could be. Entire sequences out of place, new untranslated ones, staring at it he would nearly rip out his hair. It was almost as if each mutated person's DNA was custom made, that it would follow it's own pattern completely different from that of any ordinary person. Trying to design a person with hand picked abilities was beginning to look more and more impossible.

Throughout it all though his wife would do her best to comfort him, and he would accept her slight gestures and often looked pleased. What thoughts were going through his mind I do not know but how he brought himself to what ultimately happened I do not know.

I had been working with the Doctor for about a year when stumbling out of bed I stepped into the kitchen one morning to notice a bump in the stomach of his wife. How long he knew I am uncertain for when I asked he replied, "My business is that of my own, I knew you would notice eventually. Ha! To think that in three months time my greatest project ever shall begin."

Those words... chill me to the bone. Had I known then what I know now I would have taken her, hidden her... somewhere away from him. But being ever so foolish, blinded by admiration and total ignorance I failed to see the truth behind those words. I had grown to think of the two of them as family, and although the research had begun to hit a downward slope I hoped that we would remain close even when my job there was done.

I would often sit and think of the future of that young child growing in the womb of his Mrs. And I pictured the world at his fingertips, if his father were to approach fatherhood the way he did his research the result would be a jewel of a man.

Though it had occurred to me that the Doctor himself would never leave the estate I had attributed this to his dedication to his work, never even approaching what was actually true. But his actions within my last few months there had started to concern me, especially how he had become more and more isolated, hiding his going-ons from me and even his wife at the time. Although it granted me more time for a social life I questioned whether or not what we were working on would go anywhere. It also left me to tend to his wife at this sensitive time and I considered the morals of a man whom would leave his pregnant wife to fend for herself.

An accomplice of mine whom I would socialize with regularly informed me that he would like to meet up with me to discuss something of an urgent nature. I took my leave ensuring that I would not be needed and headed to the meeting place. The look on his face when he noticed me perplexed me and as I greeted him he simply gestured for me be secretive. This man and I had known each other through graduate school and both started working with Crey Corp. at the same time. We had even been assigned to the same projects usually. But something about my work with the Doctor bothered him and he would commonly comment that something felt wrong about the whole situation. However what he learned, I was not yet prepared for.

Doctor Briskly, or "Dr. Atom" as he was known in some circles was not at all the man I thought he was. It seemed he had a fondness for radioactivity in his youth which caused him to do reprehensible things. One such case was that of a dog, found radiated to death and half spliced together with several other animals whom could only be identified by what remained of their individual DNA. It seemed that he was valuable to the Crey Corporation and they used their resources and influence to keep the whole affair quiet.

"The way I could get answers from no one drove me to find this John. You must leave that place, it isn't safe, who knows what he has planned for you? And with them backing him no one would ever know you're gone!" were the last words I heard from my friend; for even as he spoke them I had dove deep into my own mind and found myself heading back towards the mansion as what had been newly revealed to me raced through my thoughts. Three days later he was found strangled to death in some alley, reportedly a victim of a mugging gone wrong. I still carry the guilt of doubt from that incident with me as well.

As I made my way back to the estate I questioned myself about exactly how I should approach the situation, how exactly I should approach the situation, and what exactly had I gotten myself into. I believed in what it was that we were doing; it was an effort to make the lives of all of those around us safer! But would a man such as one whom earned the name "Dr. Atom" have the same intentions as one such as myself? In the end I pushed myself to devote everything to the work but to be more alert as to his true motives.

Oddly enough two days after the meeting with my friend the good Doctor approached me. "I feel as though I have been keeping something from you, and it has bothered my deeply." he said as he stood in the doorway to my room. "We must discuss some things, so that you may get to understand me better."

From his testimony he had been cursed with a vast curiosity, one which would frighten ordinary men. Through this "curse" he had committed acts in the name of science that were shunned by the unenlighted for what he called "a lack of imagination." I accepted his words with no hint of what I truly believed but the way in which he spoke had me doubting myself. Is not true that often those who seek to advance the world further are branded madmen? Heretics? This is the mindset to which the Doctor convinced me to live with for I did believe in our work and the resolve of one such as he.

But often trust is placed in the oddest of places. It was ironically stormy the night that this lesson thrust itself upon me. The Mrs. had been getting closer and closer to her date of delivery and the Doctor was uncharacteristically edgy. He had completely halted the research in anticipation of the arrival of his son, whom his wife had already named Steven. I was going through papers when I heard a loud noise and sound like something heavy had fallen. I originally intended to ignore it, but something urged me to investigate.

If only I had gone off of my original instincts none of this would have happened... but alas it is too late for theories. As I arrived downstairs a trail of blood led to a staircase I had not known about. I proceeded with care and curiously examined the hall as I journeyed to where I would make a shocking discovery.

I found the Doctor, that I did, along with his wife whom by this point was already strapped onto the observation table with all kinds of instruments and machines poking out various parts of her body. "Doctor!" was all that I could say which managed to get his attention as he turned to me with a cold smile.

"Damned creatures, even that of a mother and her child are virtually unidentifiable from one another. Ah yes, you did not know that my wife was a mutant did you?" As I fought through my shock things were starting to make more and more sense. "You, help me here I want to observe the child... I am sure you are familiar with stem cell research perhaps if..."

"ENOUGH!" I yelled in a rage. "I will not sit by while you continue with this atrocity! This is your wife and child do you feel nothing?"

"What did I tell you? What was the first lesson I ever gave you? If you have an idea, release it, explore it, no matter what the cost may be! Now get over here and help me!"

"Help you? Help you? Are you mad!? I came here to help people not to help you satisfy your barbaric cravings."

"Help? You want to help someone then continue what you are here for and assist me for there is no one else here for you to help." And with those words my heart sank. I had come to know these people as family, I had high hopes for that child. And now niether he nor his mother shall ever breathe this air again.

"You didn't..." I said as I fell to me knees in grief. "I admired you, you were a family to me..."

"What family is there for creatures whom cannot even be identified as such? Do your job now or leave!"

I looked up to him and could not recognize the man whom I saw... this was not Doctor Briskly, no... this had to be Dr. Atom... this could not be the same man who welcomed me, who shared intelligent conversation with me... whom was adored by his wife. This had to be some different man, an imposter. "I ought to have you arrested!"

His laughter cut through me like a sharp blade through air, "Arrested? You ought to build a pedastal, erect monuments in my image! My work will change the world and here you threaten me?"

That was it... I could take no more. I rose from my knees and returned from the way which I came. I however neglected to inform the authorities because I believed in the work. I did however manage to inform the Corporation who sent a team over immediately and ended the mad happenings of the mansion. All the work was confiscated, the mansion abandoned and eventually destroyed, and I assigned new work.

I never heard from nor of my mentor again save that he had been reassigned to some "Revenant" project for the Corporation. The mother and son had been buried together at a small ceremony in which I recognized no one in attendance.

I did however meet her parents and could not come to face them as they cried over the lie which was fed to the world as to how the death occured. I had in fact been to the cemetary a number of times for the first few years but found it harder and harder to approach the burial ground.

There had also been news that most residents within the area also found it hard to settle since the incident, some even reported hearing the unending cries of a child and images of torturous acts. I myself blame guilt, and even to this day I am certain that I am haunted for my neglect to react. But it is my weight to carry for it was I who was ignorant. It was I who chose to side with well chosen words instead of instinct... it was I who believed in the work.

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Note: Not sure what I think about it but can't be too bad... anyways read and rate and soon we'll probably see the child make an appearance in my main story. Laters 


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